


Not Even for the Champion

by soldiermom1973



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Cheese, Gen, Kirkwall, Wyvern hunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 06:24:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6184129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldiermom1973/pseuds/soldiermom1973
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair receives an invitation to Duke Prosper's annual wyvern hunt.  Teagan pulls out all of the stops to try and convince the king to attend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Even for the Champion

**Author's Note:**

> Stupid plot bunnies.... I'm working my way through the Mark of the Assassin DLC for DA2 and bumped into Teagan at the Chateau and I could just picture the conversation between he and Alistair as he tried to convince Alistair to attend (I can't help but feel like I made Alistair a little too serious, but I also didn't want him to come across as childish). So I had to write it. And now that it's written, I can go back to sneaking through the Chateau. Enjoy. :)

“You have GOT to be kidding me. Orlesian cheese is the worst!” Alistair flopped onto a barrel in the kitchen. He might be king but he still had a Warden's metabolism and could usually be found raiding the larder (and avoiding the cook, who had a tendency to chase him out, waving a wooden spoon at him).

Teagan just smiled and shook his head. “It isn't the empress, at least. I'd be more worried about you tripping over your tongue around her.”

Alistair grumbled as he re-read the neatly folded parchment. “A wyvern hunt? Seriously? Teagan, the only thing I've ever hunted was darkspawn. And Loghain. And I'd honestly rather have to hunt for both of them again than go on some wild animal hunt. What's the point of this, anyway?”

Teagan sighed and rubbed his temples (something he did an awful lot of since his kind-of-nephew assumed the throne). “Duke Prosper does this every year. Wyverns reproduce faster than you can devour a wheel of Antivan aged cheddar.”

Alistair's eyes widened a bit as he whistled. “Wow. That's impressive.”

“Indeed,” Teagan agreed. “So the Duke has this annual hunt to help cull the numbers. He then has a celebration afterward during which the person who slayed the first wyvern of the hunt is named the guest of honor.”

“And what does the guest of honor get? Some sort of monetary prize? A special set of armor?”

“Nothing,” Teagan admitted. “It's all simply part of the Grand Game.”

Alistair raised an eyebrow as he grabbed an apple from a sack beside him. “The Grand Game, huh? The more you keep talking, the more I keep thinking I should really sit this one out. Perhaps you should just go alone? I mean, I don't want to accidentally do something to offend some Orlesian noble and throw us back into war again.”

Teagan let out an exasperated sigh. “Your majesty, attending something simple such as this could be the start of strengthening our ties to Orlais. To continue the work your brother was doing, Maker rest his soul.”

“All the more reason for me to not attend. Seriously, Teagan. You know how terrible I am at this sort of thing. If Ellie weren't at Weisshaupt, I'd at least consider it or ask if she'd mind going alone.” Ferelden's new king shook his head. “I'm sorry, Uncle, but until I get better at this political nonsense I have to deal with every day, I'm going to have to insist that you attend the Duke's soiree in my stead.”

The Bann let out another sigh. He had a feeling this would be the outcome but he'd hoped that maybe Alistair would agree to go for at least a change of scenery. And to see a wyvern? “You know, the Duke has a pet wyvern. Leopold, I believe he named it.”

“Maker's breath... who keeps a pet wyvern? That seems almost as dangerous as letting Ellie's mabari have free reign here in the kitchen.”

“Which probably isn't any worse than letting you have free reign in here. Sire.” Teagan smirked.

“That is not entirely wrong,” Alistair grinned as he finished his apple and fished for another.

The king and his advisor stared at one another for a while – Alistair slowly eating his apple and Teagan simply waiting for his liege to speak again. The Bann finally pulled the one card he'd been hoping to avoid... “I hear the Champion of Kirkwall will be attending.”

That got Alistair's attention. “You're joking. Oh, you _aren't_ joking, are you?” he continued when Teagan's expression didn't change. Alistair narrowed his eyes. “I swear, Teagan, if this is some plot to get me to agree to go...”

“It isn't, your majesty. Maker as my witness, from what I understand, the Champion will actually be attending this year's hunt.” It was no secret that the Duke had been inviting Hawke to his hunts for the past several years and each time, his invitation had been declined. Teagan also knew that Alistair had a bit of hero worship for the man who had bested the Arishok in single combat. He might be king, but that didn't mean he wasn't impressed by feats such as that.

Alistair ran his hand over his chin, contemplating this new bit of information. “You're certain Serah Hawke will be there?” he asked, giving his uncle a hard look. He was finding it hard to contain his excitement – he'd been following Hawke's exploits ever since he re-established the Amell name in Kirkwall. He'd also been keeping a very close eye on the qunari threat in Kirkwall, too, and when he heard that Hawke had managed to pretty much drive them out single-handedly, he wanted desperately to meet the man and try to woo him back to Ferelden. It was difficult to keep a straight face, though, and he had a feeling Teagan knew that.

“That is the last I heard, yes, your majesty. The Champion will be at this year's hunt.”

“And when is this hunt again?” Alistair asked, swinging the apple core from its stem, trying to seem uninterested.

“Three weeks. And it will take us the better part of one week to travel there.”

Alistair seriously considered the invitation. Teagan was probably right – attending something as inconsequential as a wyvern hunt would be a good way for him to get his feet wet with dealing with Orlesian politics, but he also knew from his talks with Leliana that the Game was very unforgiving. He simply couldn't risk inadvertently screwing something up and causing some sort of political incident. Not even if the Champion of Kirkwall was going to be in attendance.

Alistair tossed the core into the air and caught it before tossing it into the trash bin. “Nope. Sorry, Teagan, but not even my desire to meet the Champion is enough to get me to attend this... event. You'll just have to suffer through it alone.”

The king stood and brushed his hands together. Teagan was obviously shocked – he was certain that knowing Hawke would be there would guarantee the king's attendance. “You... you're serious? You still won't go?”

“Nope,” Alistair shook his head. “You do a fantastic job of keeping me from ruining things here but our relations with Orlais are still too tenuous for me to attend the Duke's ball. Hunt. Thing. Whatever. At least, not without Ellie.” Alistair moved passed his uncle and made his way out of the kitchen. “Make something up... tell him I'm sick or came down with the blight or something,” he waved his hand dismissively.

One more exasperated sigh left Teagan's lips. “Of course, your majesty,” he said, giving a slight bow. “Just don't expect me to bring back any of their imported cheeses.”

“You'll bring some back and you know it, Teagan,” Alistair grinned over his shoulder. “You've got a soft spot for me and you know it!”

As Alistair vanished around the corner, Teagan couldn't help but smile to himself. “Indeed I do, nephew. Indeed I do.”


End file.
